The Press., 1887-10-27
IN THE CELLAR.

The siege was over at last, and the most strongly fortified city in the Confederacy was in the hands of the Federals.
 Among the few citizens remaining in the captured stronghold was Henry Gates.
 When his friends fled from the place Gates refused to go. His wife had been killed by shell during the siege and he no longer felt interested in anything
 eff they will let me alone, :" he said, Git is all I ask. I am going to shut myself up here at home, and nobody will be both cred by me.''
 But it was not an easy matter for Gates to live undisturbed in his big house. The Federal soldiers could not resist the temp tatiOn to help themselves to everything that struck their fancy. Gates gloomy resi- dence, standing at some distance from the other houses, attracted their attention The servants had left the city with the Confederates, and as Gates never showed himself, the looters were under the inn pression that the place was deserted.
 One day several stout fellows rushed in and stripped the garden. They pulled up the corn, tomatoes, cabbages, turnips and beans, and left the ground perfectly bare Then they invaded the back lot and car ried off Q COW and calf.
 The owner of the property watched these proceedings from a window, and silently nursed his wrath.
 But this was only the beginning. In an outhouse two bales of cotton and some tobacco had been stored. Gates had made the investment thinking that if the city was captured he would be able to turn the cotton and tobacco into greenbacks. Naturally, his indignation was unbounded when he woke up one morning and found | treasure into an army wagon.
 He ran out of the house and remon- strated wildly with the robbers, but they merely laughed at him. Finally two of the men tied him to a tree and gagged him. Then they jumped into the wagon and drove off. ID little while Gates tore himself loose. He went into the house and locked the doors.
 As the day wore on he worked himself into fury.
 ''Life is not worth living,' he said, Eff I must submit to these outrages. If I can't have my rights I'll have bloodp'
 He spent some time looking through tho house, and at last he found an old bowie knife. With Q smile of satisfaction he seized the murderous weapon, and the next hour or two was spent in whetting it, and he did not lay it aside until it was as sharp as a razor.
 ''Now let them come!'' he muttered.
 At late hour that night Gates was awakened by noise in one of the lower rooms. Leaping from his bel, he took his knife and glided down stairs. The moonlight enabled him to see every object in his way.
 When he reached the foot of the stairs he paused to listen. He could not be mis- taken. He heard the sound of shuffiing feet in back room. Turning the door knob quietly he ran against a burly ruff fan in blue.
 "For Gods sake!'' said the soldier, when he saw the upraised knife.
 His appeal was useless. Once, twice, thrice the deadly steel descended, and the victim fell with the death rattle in his throat!
 Gates reeled back half stunned when he saw what he had done. All his life he had been man of peace. It was an awful sight to see that white, dead face with the staring eyes.
 The slayer had no time to lose. He closed the window through which the in truder had entered, and then began to think about the concealment of the body. 1t would not do to stand the consequences of his act. He could not hope for justice. The Federals would kill him without 8 trial.
 In an instant his plan was matured He lifted the dead man by the shoulders and dragged him down into the cellar. The place was favorable for the conceal ment of the body. The work of walling the sides of the cellar had been suspended during the siege, and the floor was filtered with fragments of granite and other ma terial left by the masons.
 The body was carefully deposited in a corner, and Gates struck match, but at once eXtinguished it. He went to work in the dark, and in less than ten minutes he had covered the lifeless heap in the corner with pile of rubbish.
 There was no more sleep that night for Gates. He wandered from room to room, thinking and planning. When morning came he looked into a mirror and gave a cry of horror. His face was pinched and haggard, and his hair, so black and glossy the day before, was threaded with gray!
 The long day of anxiety and terror came to an end, but Gates had found it impossible to do anything. So many sol